Another Point of View
by enmason
Summary: Half omniscient narration, half Rose's personal diary, the story of how Rose works through her social anxiety, depression, and self-degradation by understanding the value of life from a different perspective: as Scorpius Malfoy opens up to her about things he's also hidden from the rest of the world, Rose starts to realize that maybe it's possible to be loved by someone else.
1. Rose

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

* * *

I began writing this because I was told by my muggle psychiatrist that it would help sort through all of the problems in my head. Also, because, as I was told by the same muggle psychiatrist, it would help me with my verbal expression and social anxiety. I don't know how much I care about all of that. The only thing that really made me feel like writing on this frighteningly blank journal is that I would feel less lonely if I could talk to someone who really listens to me. And, as the muggle psychiatrist insists, what better listener than a blank page, right?

I've been using another journal to keep track of my medications. I don't have many, but I keep forgetting to take each one at the right time, so my mum made me start a log. That's the difference between the two of us, which I guess comes from the Weasley side of me… while mum and I might be similar in terms of bookishness and intelligence, my organization and attention to detail veer towards my dad. Basically, I can't keep track of much of anything, and I'm surprised that my grades at Hogwarts haven't gone to absolute shit because of it. Maybe I'm even smarter than mum. (Who am I kidding).

I'll skip past the boring bits, like my family history, or what I had to eat today, because those really aren't a part of the bigger picture. The bigger picture is, that, about six months ago, right after returning to school from the winter holidays, I was sent to the hospital wing, almost stark naked, with a bloody fistful of glass. I had smashed the mirror in my dormitory after taking a bath because, well, who likes their own body these days, or at least that's the explanation I gave Madam Baruch. She had sent an owl to my parents requesting that I be given a bit of time off school, and my muggle-born mum came running with, what do you know, a muggle psychiatrist. The muggle psychiatrist determined that I had social anxiety, clinical depression, self-harm tendencies, the list of diagnoses went on and on. Ultimately, my mum took me out of school for the rest of the term, I finished all of my classes via owl, and I haven't had one single letter from a friend asking whether I'm all right.

Ah, and there we run into the true issue. I haven't had one single letter from a friend asking whether I'm all right, or why I was out, or whether I would be returning to school. I guess maybe that's the start of the problem, and I would go into it more, but my hand is getting kind of sore, and since I never learned to hold my quill properly, and I don't really feel like making my writer's bump hurt any worse, I'll end it here for now. Huck just came in through the window, and it looks like a letter might actually be tied to his claw. Let's hope for the best.


	2. The Letter

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

* * *

Rose closed the journal, setting it carefully next to the medication log and diary on the table next to her bed, and reached into the bag of owl treats in the other corner of the room for something to give to her owl, Huckleberry. She tossed the treat into his beak, pulled the string loose from his leg, and carefully slid the small white envelope away from his talon. Satisfied, Huck ruffled his feathers and hopped toward the other end of the room, where his cage was. He settled in with a delighted chirp, nestling his beak into the crook of his wing, and within a minute or two began to snore quietly.

Rose smiled, her eyes wandering irresistibly back to the envelope. It felt a bit lumpy, and she shot another smile towards Huck, the clumsy little bird. She flipped it over, her small smile quickly twisting into a frown. She should have realized as soon as she saw the shape and color of the envelope what its contents would be. Her finger moved softly over the green ink, and with a sigh she put the envelope on her bedside table. It was the Hogwarts supply list. Usually, Rose would be excited to receive this letter, because receiving it meant that school would be starting again soon. But she had gotten her hopes up for a different kind of letter, a kind of letter that would show her that she mattered to any of her classmates or friends or distant relatives.

Nobody outside of Rose's immediate family had been told the exact details of her situation, except that she had been going through a hard time, which was why she thought at least one of her many relatives, or even fellow students at Hogwarts, might ask about it. The months of silence made it hard to convince herself that anyone really cared.

At least summer was close to ending. Once school started again, Rose wouldn't have to deal with the loneliness of a school holiday spent without any friends. She turned to her bedside table, picking up the letter and looking at it a bit more closely. In addition to the wrinkles, she noticed that it felt heavier than a letter should, and her fingers brushed over something small and hard at the bottom of the envelope. After turning it over, she carefully broke the seal and pulled out the supply list. She reached her fingers inside the envelope again, but something sharp and small pricked her skin. She pulled her hand out quickly, sucked on her bleeding finger, and after a moment or two, turned the envelope upside-down, shaking the object onto the bedside table.

A small badge glinted in the dim light of her lamp, but it was turned the wrong way. She peered closer, and with dismay read the words "Head Girl" scrawled across the front. She blinked. It must be some sort of mistake. She couldn't be Head Girl; she hadn't even been in school for half of the year, and she definitely hadn't been present to fulfill her Prefect duties. Surely the badge had somehow found its way into her envelope by some error, surely her envelope had been switched with that of someone more accountable in her year. She grabbed the journal off of the bedside table, tore out a page, and walked over to her desk to search for a quill. The time it took to dip the quill in a nearby inkpot gave her a moment to think of what she might say.

"Dear Headmistress McGonagall—" she began.

"Dear Headmistress McGonagall, I am writing to inform you that there may have been a mistake regarding your allocation of—"

"Oh, fuck," she whispered angrily. Rose crumpled the page into a ball, stalked across the room, and tore another page from the journal She took the paper with her to the desk and slammed it on the hardwood surface. She dipped the quill again in the pot of ink, some of it dripping on the corner of the page, and began to write another note.

Dear Headmistress McGonagall, I found a Head Girl Badge in the envelope with my supply list letter. I've included it with this note, as we both know that this position is not the best fit for me and would be better handled by another, in fact any other, student in my House and year. If this is not a mistake, thank you for your generosity, and if it is a mistake, I apologise for not having returned it sooner. Regards, Rose Weasley.

"Good enough," Rose mumbled, opening a drawer and thumbing through its contents for an envelope. "I just have to get this out of here before mum or dad or Merlin _forbid_ Hugo sees it."

As if on cue, a quick rap at the door made Rose jump away from the desk, letter still in hand, Head Girl badge still on the table beside her bed. She made a lunge for the desk, caught her toe on the throw rug on her floor, and toppled to the floor. The door swung open, and Hugo rushed inside her room.

"Rose, you okay? Rose? What happened?" Hugo's voice cracked in worry.

He reached down to help her up. "How did you fall?" Hugo glanced down at the letter in her hand. "You've already gotten your supply list? Mine hasn't come yet."

His eyes traveled along her outstretched hand, and his head cocked to the side, his frown transitioning from concern to curiosity as he saw the shining pin on the bedside table.

"So this is why you fell just now? Why? Did you not want to show me? What is this? Rose? Is this what I think it is?" His questions all came in a rush, jumbled together, and it was hard for Rose to separate one from the other.

"Oh, no, Merlin, no, please Hugo, just calm down for a moment," she sighed. "It's not that, really."

Hugo let go of her arm, rushed over to the table, and picked up the pin.

"Head Girl," he read. "Head Girl, Rose? Are you serious?! Head girl? Rose, this is amazing!"

Rose scrambled up from the floor, reaching desperately for the pin.

"Hugo!" she hissed. "Hugo, give that back to me! It was a mistake! Hugo, whatever you do, don't let mum and dad see!"

Hugo held the pin above his head, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. "Rose, I doubt this was a mistake. Head Girl, Rose, they don't just give this pin to anyone!"

She lunged for it, her fingers missing the pin by inches. Hugo had gotten taller in recent years, and his long arms stretched much higher than hers. As she continued desperately to retrieve her pin, Hugo's expression became thoughtful.

"You know," he said, arms still deftly avoiding Rose's reach, "I could keep it from our parents, if you were to do something in return for me."

Rose dropped her hands, ran towards the doorway, slammed the door shut, and blocked it pathetically with her small body. Out of breath from the futile attempt to retrieve the pin, her breath came in and out in deep gulps.

"Wh-what?" she heaved. "What d-do I have to do?"

Hugo scratched under his eye with his free hand, the other hand still raised, holding the pin above his head.

"Well, it's not exactly _what_ you have to do, dear Rose," he grinned. "I was thinking more along the lines of, if I do you the favor of _not_ telling our parents about this, even though they're bound to find eventually—"

"It was a mistake," Rose cut in curtly, breath fully regained.

He rolled eyes. "Well, either way. I won't tell them about any of this, if you promise to eventually call in a favor in return, whatever it may be, whenever I want you to."

Rose grimaced. "Fine," she muttered through grit teeth. "Whatever you want. Just give me back the pin, and _whatever you do, do not say anything to mum or dad_."

She stretched out her hand, back still flat against the door.

"Right, here you are," he said, dropping the pin lightly into her hand. "Just make sure you follow through with your promise, or word might find its way back to not just our parents, but everyone in the family, as well, before school starts and you can escape everyone to Hogwarts. And you don't want that happening."

"I get it," Rose said. She swiveled away from the door. "Now leave."

"Gladly," he replied, grin widening. "I look forward to calling in that favor."


	3. Rose in September

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

* * *

Why do I care whether my parents find out about the fact that I very mistakenly received the Head Girl badge along with my supply list for seventh year? There are several reasons.

Ever since I was young, I was always held to very high standards. Because I was smarter than average as a child, I was constantly put through advanced programs for gifted young minds in the very best muggle schools in our area. The only gifts I would receive on birthdays or holidays were books or special programs to develop my intellectual abilities. With the added responsibility of living up to the Weasley name, rather than being proud of any of my achievements, I would always focus on what it was that I had done wrong, or what I could do to help improve myself further.

Theoretically, all of these experiences might lead to someone who is constantly working hard, or perhaps to someone who is constantly trying to prove to others that she can meet the standards that are set for her. I should be either highly successful and admired or so obsessed with my own achievements that I can't help but share it with others. A know-it-all?

Instead, it's made me someone who never thinks that any of her achievements are good enough. Someone who always has to show some perfectly-created mask to the outside, but who never has the self-confidence to be proud of who she really is. I no longer feel like an independent person with my own emotions and thoughts. I've become the person my parents want me to be, the person I'm supposed to be, on the outside, and someone who absolutely has no right to be herself on the inside. So while I'm trying to impress everyone with someone who isn't really me, I've lost any sense of pride in my own work, and I've also lost the capability to really be myself around others.

I have no personality other than the "perfect" mask that my lack of self-confidence in my "real" personality has forced me to make. I don't deserve the Head Girl badge because it was awarded to the person that everyone thinks I am, and not to the real Rose Weasley. And all of that just makes me feel even worse about who I am on the inside.

And if my parents find out about the fact that Rose Weasley, who is not the real me, has received the Head Girl badge, it will just become another title for me to live up to. If I'm working on living up to that title, I'm afraid that something like what happened last year will happen all over again.

The worst part about being someone whose personality lives inside of a shell is that nobody really gets to know me. Not even my family knows about my real personality, or all of the emotional issues that I've been facing. I've shared none of this with my muggle psychiatrist, whom I've trusted the least of everyone. I have no friends who truly care about me, and I end up feeling absolutely and utterly alone.

I can't tell anyone about any of this, either, because that would go against the perfect shell that I've created for myself. Even after all that's happened, it's impossible for me to open up, because opening up would mean showing people that I'm not the perfect Rose Weasley that they think I am.


	4. At King's Station

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

* * *

The morning that Rose and Hugo were to go to Hogwarts was bright and crisp. Rose was a disheveled mess, partly because she hadn't woken up in time to properly get herself ready, partly because she had forgotten her journal in her room and at the last minute had to run back and search for it. Her parents still hadn't found out about the badge she had received, somehow, and she was thankful to Hugo for intercepting all of the owls that came into the house in case any of them had a reply from Headmistress McGonagall. Unfortunately, these extra favors had come with an unbreakable promise to Hugo, that she would perform "any favor he so wished." She didn't want to know what kind of a favor he had in mind, and had ultimately decided to put it off for later worrying. As for the badge, she had pocketed it to return to McGonagall when she arrived at Hogwarts.

They had arrived at King's Cross Station and gotten through the nine-and-three-quarters wall without the usual congestion, since they were on time for once. Hugo and Rose were old enough that they didn't need mum and dad there with them every step of the way, so Ron and Hermione left with simple good-byes. Hermione had already assured Rose that she wasn't disappointed in her not getting Head Girl, but Rose had known that her mum was a bit upset about it. But Rose knew that a bit of disappointment from her mum was much better than the alternative, had they found out about the badge. For once, this kind of disappointment hadn't made her feel ashamed. Maybe she really was feeling better. Or maybe the anxiety surrounding the badge was just masking her other feelings.

Hugo and Rose took their usual places towards the back of the train. They had some time to wait until the train took off for Hogwarts, so Rose looked out the window and at the crowd of students that had gathered. She didn't know much of the student body. Because of her antisocial tendencies, she had avoided parties, Quidditch games, anything that involved large crowds of people. Her eyes roved over the bobbing heads, crying parents, screaming babies, until they fixed upon another set of eyes, all the way at the other end of the station. Embarrassed, her eyes flickered away, looking at anything but that pair of piercing eyes. Even as she tried to look in other directions, she sensed that she was being watched. She looked again at the same spot, met the same steady gaze. She recognized Scorpius Malfoy, a boy she had barely gotten to know at all during the past seven years, and had in fact made a point to avoid, looking curiously back at her. A second passed, and the moment was gone, he was looking somewhere else, and Rose was left wondering whether she had imagined it all… Until he looked at her again. She looked away quickly, swallowing. Her mouth was dry. She studied her books, searching for anything to look at, anything other than those eyes.

"Rose?" Hugo prodded her, waking her out of her confusion. "Whatcha looking at?"

His smile told Rose that he had seen everything, and that he wasn't going to let it go easily.

"It wasn't me," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Clearly, you could see that it was an attack. Some sort of threat."

"It looked friendly enough to me," Hugo replied. "Nothing out of the ordinary, if a girl catches a boy's interest."

Rose snorted. "It's not that. It's definitely not that."

Hugo shrugged. "That's how I let a girl know I'm interested. But if it wasn't that, then what was it?"

"Not interest," Rose said. "I don't know what it was, but it definitely was _not_ any sort of interest…"

"Fine," Hugo sighed. "I don't really know what it was for. One of these days I'm going to have to call in that favor to get inside of that mind of yours."

"Unnecessary," Rose countered, "You already know everything that mum and dad dribble back to you from my muggle—" she cut herself off, having forgotten for a moment that Hugo didn't know about that one small detail.

"Your muggle what, Rose? I never heard anything about you going to muggles about—"

Hugo was interrupted by a quiet rap on the window of the door to their compartment. Rose looked up, relieved to be rid of that dangerous conversation, but was flustered by what she saw. It was that steady gaze from before.

"Malfoy?" Hugo muttered, eyes darting towards Rose, and then back to the door. "I wonder what he could want. Maybe this is why he was staring at you before?"

Hugo could sometimes be too frank for his own good. Hugo nodded at Malfoy, tugged at the knob on the compartment door, and swung it open. He cocked his head to the side, indicating that Scorpius could enter. Scorpius hefted his heavy trunk up onto the racks above the benches before sitting down heavily next to Rose. He ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath before speaking.

His gaze darted towards Hugo. "Do you know about the issue Rose needs sorted out? The one involving a Headmistress McGonagall?"

Rose was mildly surprised. Scorpius had never called her Rose, always Weasley, although she had always called him Scorpius in her mind. She called everyone by their first names in her mind, but by convention called them by last names out loud. In the course of these thoughts, Hugo had indicated to Scorpius that he did know about the aforementioned "issue," and was just about to get into questioning Scorpius as to why he knew about said "issue," when Rose stepped in.

"Hugo, please," she said quietly. "Let's just find out what Scor- er, Malfoy wants."


	5. Rose on the Train

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using the copyrighted material.

* * *

This train ride has been (er, somewhat) enlightening. I just had a long conversation with Scorpius—er, Malfoy—about the problems I have with being Head Girl. And apparently he wasn't chosen as Head Boy, which I suppose is surprising, given his marks. Maybe it's the minor bouts of trouble he's gotten into these past few years, or maybe there was just someone better than him to get the title. Anyway, he heard about my problem somehow, likely from Headmistress McGonagall, and decided to give me some advice. It was a lot of what my brother had been telling me all week, that it was an honor, that I could just accept it once I left home so that I didn't have to deal with all the attention from my parents, whatever.

But there was one thing he told me that was different, and that actually made me want to maybe (and this is a huge maybe, but) want to keep the damned badge. He told me that I made a difference in people's lives, and that this was probably the reason why Headmistress McGonagall had given me the badge in the first place. Not because of my family connections, or my marks, or even because I had followed the school rules. It was because she had seen something in me that told her I actually cared about my fellow classmates.

I'm not so sure that I understand any of this, and if anything, I would say that I don't know Malfoy well enough to believe what he says. When I look into those piercing eyes I wonder what he's really thinking. I don't know whether to trust them, or be suspicious of what they may hold inside.

The rest of the train ride has been rather quiet. Malfoy bought crisps and candies for us all, which my brother allowed because both of our families have enough money to do that sort of thing. I've slept for a bit, my head leaning against the rather uncomfortable window, and now I'm writing only because Hugo is asleep and Malfoy is reading. I think that—


	6. The Journey There

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

Something heavy slumped onto Rose's shoulder, causing her pen to slide off of the page. It felt like someone's head. She looked over and saw that Scorpius had fallen asleep, leaning against her shoulder, book still in his hands. She reached a hand up, trying to lightly push him away. His head slid off of her shoulder and into her lap. The book he had been holding fell to the floor, waking up Hugo, who had been curled up on the bench across from them. His eyes cracked open a bit, and they widened once he saw what was in front of him. He sat up quickly, barely stifling a laugh behind his hand.

Mortified, Rose tried pushing Scorpius away, but he wouldn't budge. He snuggled into her stomach, placing an arm around her waist. She tried to pry the arm off, but he was too strong for her. Exasperated, Rose gave up altogether, giving Hugo a look. Hugo shrugged, a suggestive look in his eye, and looked out the window, contemplating how he could best tease her.

He turned back to Rose, cocked a grin, and whispered, "You see, when a bloke likes a girl, he'll do anything to get to her."

Rose scowled. "That isn't it. He's just…" Rose trailed off, unable to come up with a plausible explanation for Malfoy's actions.

"He's just madly in love with you, that's all," Hugo chuckled quietly. "Why else would he have been so desperate for you to accept Head Girl?"

The train jostled suddenly, going across a bridge, and Scorpius finally woke up at the series of sharp bumps and twists. Realizing the position he was in, he glanced up at Rose, looked at Hugo, back at Rose, and jumped back into his own place. He looked down, snatched his book from the floor, and flipped through the pages to find his lost place. The book was upside-down.

Hugo laughed. "Oy, mate, flip it over, you've got the book the wrong-side up."

A twinge of pink gave Scorpius' pale face an embarrassed glow, and he resolutely avoided eye contact with both Rose and Hugo, flipping the book to the right side and continuing to thumb through the pages. Hugo clapped a hand to his face, but both Rose and Scorpius could hear the muffled laughter that came out from behind it.

Hugo's voice came out a garbled mess. "Sorry—mate—It's just—I didn't think you'd—y'know—this is just—"

Nose still buried in the book, Scorpius' words rushed out of his mouth. "I know, I get it, I feel absolutely and completely mortified, now will you please just forget about all of it, it means nothing, I felt more comfortable sleeping that way, how could I know that it was Ro—Weasley there, for all I know it could have been a pillow, I—"

"Malfoy, it's okay," Rose said quietly, giving him a small smile. "You were tired, I get it. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Scorpius looked up from his book for the first time. "Er—thanks."

His gaze traveled back down to his book, and the three sat in silence for a little while. Hugo laid back down on the bench, and soon sounds of light snoring filled the compartment. Even after several minutes had passed, Rose noticed that Scorpius hadn't turned a page in his book.

"What's bothering you?" she asked in a quiet voice, so as not to wake Hugo.

"I just—"

"What is it?" Rose sounded patient.

"Well," Scorpius sighed, and then the words tumbled out of his mouth: "Have you reconsidered taking the position of Head Girl? I know this might be too soon to ask, I mean, the conversation we had was only a few hours ago, but you have duties at the Great Feast and afterward—"

"I wasn't even a prefect, Malfoy," Rose cut in. "I haven't even gone to the prefects' compartment to instruct them on their train patrols. I'm sure that by now, those duties have been delegated to someone else. Why would anyone in their right mind keep me on as Head Girl if I can't even fulfill my duties?"

"There's a Head Boy, too, you know," Scorpius said. "I'm sure that setting patrol duties isn't too much of a hassle."

"Do you know who Head Boy is this year, as well?" Rose asked. "Or did McGonagall just tell you about me?"

"Who says it was McGonagall who told me about you?" Scorpius shrugged. "It was your brother who told me about you."

"My _brother_?" Rose snorted. Her eyes darted towards Hugo, afraid that her voice had woken him up. Hugo snorted and rolled over. She sighed in relief. More quietly, she asked, "Why did my brother tell you about this?"

"Well, we're in the same house, you know, and he was looking for someone to help you make up your mind. Since you don't have any close friends, he thought I was the best person to help you out."

"Why's that?" Rose asked.

"I don't know," Scorpius said. "He just said he trusted that I could help you make the best decision."

Rose rolled her eyes.

"No, seriously," he said. "You don't see what other people see in you, Weasley. Hear me out on this: try being Head Girl for one week. If you don't like it, if you get a bad reaction from your parents, if you feel there's too much work to do, quit. But just try it for one week."

Rose looked down at her journal, still open on the page that she had left off. She closed it, smoothed the cover, placed the pen in its slot on the binding. She looked back up at Scorpius, took a deep breath, and nodded her head.

"Fine. I'll try it. We'll see where it goes."

Scorpius smiled. It was the first time Rose had seen him do that. Her heart skipped a beat. Moments later, the train came to a stop. Hugo woke up, groggily pulled both his and Rose's trunks down from the racks at the top of the compartment, and after a moment of hesitation, pulled down Scorpius' trunk as well. The bright expression remained on Scorpius' face. Hugo gave a confused look to the both of them, shrugged, and cocked his head for the three of them to exit the compartment.


	7. Rose and the Head Boy

****Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

* * *

Since my Head Girl badge was still with Headmistress McGonagall, I was sent by Professor Longbottom to help the Head Boy, Kaiya Shibasaka, show the Gryffindor first years around the castle. Kaiya being Head Boy is a pleasant surprise, as I'm somewhat comfortable around him. It's mostly because his last name is such a mouthful that I've called him by first name since we first met. That may have helped me get to know him a little better early on. But he's also in the same house as Hugo, so I've seen him around every now and then when I visit members of my family in the Gryffindor dormitories. He's not terribly bright, but he is always punctual and keeps all of his belongings perfectly neat and organized. His assignments are always very thorough and complete. To me, Kaiya would be a clear choice for Head Boy. He sets the perfect example for others, he's never too arrogant about anything, he's very steady and stable.

Wait a minute. Did Headmistress McGonnagall make me Head Girl just to create messes for him to clean up?

I mean, it makes sense. Even when tasked with showing first years who were not even in my own house around the castle: I missed the rhythm of the moving the stairs and almost fell to my death, I could barely look at the flock of students let alone introduce myself to them, I tripped over the portrait passage into the Gryffindor dormitories. Needless to say, I didn't do any of my Head Girl duties, and Kaiya had to run along behind me, doing my own job for me.

Aha! It's all becoming clear. I _have_ to be Head Girl, because of my parents' legacy. And Kaiya _has_ to be Head Boy, not that he isn't already qualified to be Head Boy, but because he is the only person I can think of in this entire school who could deal with my shit. Maybe my parents do already know that I'm Head Girl. Maybe they arranged with Headmistress McGonagall for me to be Head Girl, and were disappointed when I told them I didn't get the badge because they believed that their plans had fallen through. Maybe all of this was just some elaborate scheme by my _mother_ to get me out of the library more. To help me with whatever the hell my muggle psychologist has told her I'm ill with. But if they know, there's one piece of the equation that doesn't quite add up.

How could they not tell Hugo about it?

Wait.

_HUGO_. That boy has _hell_ to _pay_.


	8. Alone in the Library

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

Rose slammed her journal shut, angrily thrusting her quill aside. The Great Feast was over. Everyone had long since gone to bed. She felt like kicking herself for not memorizing the password Kaiya had used earlier to get into the Gryffindor dormitory. There had just been too much going on in her brain to remember something as insignificant as a dormitory password. A hurt tear pushed itself out of her eye, but she didn't bother to brush it away. She could think of nothing beyond finding Hugo and getting to the bottom of who had really made her Head Girl.

She had been hiding out in the library, in an attempt to avoid the fake congratulations other girls in her house were sure to offer her. Of course they also probably realized that there was no true reason for Rose to be Head Girl, and would assume that she had received the title because she was a Weasley. Distracted by her thoughts, she accidentally let a bottle of ink slip from her hand, and it bounced to the floor, rolling under the table, spewing ink everywhere in its path.

Sighing in disgust, she dug her wand out of her robes, pointed it at the spilled ink, and whispered, "_Tergeo_."

The ink slowly siphoned off the floor. She smiled in satisfaction. At least all of that studying meant she knew her charms well enough.

"_Accio ink bottle_," Rose whispered.

She heard a clunk under the desk, and peered underneath it to see that the bottle had gotten stuck on one of the desk's edges. Rose shook her head in annoyance. She dropped to her knees, reaching her arm out for the bottle, until finally she had gotten hold of it.

A sudden noise made her jolt upwards, hitting her head on the desk. She reached a hand up to rub at the pain in her head, and peered out from under the desk to see what had made the sound. Rose watched as Scorpius Malfoy walked briskly by her desk. A thought popped into her head. Her eyes brightened. She threw the ink bottle into her book-bag, and quickly crawled out from under the desk to catch up with Scorpius.


	9. Floo and Revelation

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

It was after curfew, so he was in a hurry, and it was difficult for Rose to keep up with Scorpius' long-legged strides. It was even more difficult for her to keep herself hidden and unheard, since her book-bag would bounce against her leg whenever she tried to speed up. Every time that happened, Scorpius would look around, and she would have to duck behind a statue or wall. He took a back staircase to get to the Gryffindor portrait, and it was all she could do not to fall on her face to keep up with him.

Finally, they arrived at the corridor where the portrait was located. Rose hid in a doorway so that she wouldn't be seen, but that was close enough for her to hear the password. Scorpius looked around once again and leaned in toward the portrait.

"Telegram," he said in a voice just barely audible enough for Rose to hear.

The portrait swung open, Scorpius stepped inside, and it swung closed again. Rose waited for what felt like forever before she thought it was safe enough for her to go in after Scorpius. She quickly said the password to the portrait, and it opened once again. She stepped through the opening into the Gryffindor commons room. It hadn't changed much in the months since she'd last been there, or really in the past several years that she'd been at Hogwarts. Red and gold tapestries everywhere, portraits of Gryffindor heroes like mum and dad and Uncle Harry. But it wasn't quite as warm as her own house common room, not quite as familiar.

She stepped quietly across the commons room and towards the boys' tower, but a sudden pop from the fireplace startled her, causing her to crouch down behind the nearest sofa. She cradled her bag so that it didn't make any noise as she made her body as invisible as possible. Now that she was already in the Gryffindor dormitory she didn't know why she felt the need to hide. But a fire in the fireplace meant that someone must be up to start it. She scooted towards the end of the couch, peeking over the edge so that she could see if anyone was near the fire.

A small fire lit the pale features of Scorpius Malfoy, who kneeled by it. Rose ducked back behind the couch, debating whether to say something. He had been so nice on the train, she thought it might not do any harm to tell him why she was there. She sat up, head fully visible above the couch, and opened her mouth to speak. Another voice interrupted her.

"Are you sure you're alone, nobody's around?" the voice asked. It was female. She sounded very familiar, as if Rose had spoken with her before.

She noticed that the voice was coming from the fireplace. Rose ducked her head back behind the sofa before Scorpius could see her, as he looked around to be sure that nobody was listening.

"Floo!" Rose thought. "I forgot that even existed!"

"I'm sure," Scorpius' voice dispersed her thoughts. "But you might want to speak a bit more quietly, any louder and you might wake someone up."

"All right," the voice said. Rose could tell that the voice was female, and maybe a bit older. She also sounded very tired. Rose thought that maybe it could be Scorpius' mum. Rose couldn't quite tell.

"So, how's father holding up?" Scorpius asked, keeping his face close to the fire.

"He hasn't gotten any worse. But then again, he hasn't gotten much better, either."

Rose decided it was Scorpius' mum. Scorpius sighed. He paused for a long moment, and in the flickering light of the fire, she noticed that he had closed his eyes. It was like he was deciding what to say, to somehow make things better.

"He's still in the muggle hospital, right?" he finally asked, opening his eyes. "Word hasn't got out to the rest of the family?"

"No," she said. "How could we ever tell them?"

He shrugged. "Of course we wouldn't tell them. I was just wondering if somehow word had gotten out—"

"No," she reassured him. "I've made sure that won't happen."

"So, how long does he have to stay there?" Scorpius asked.

Her voice began to quiver. "Just—he just has to stay for as long as they're sure that he won't—that this won't happen again."

"How is that possible, with muggle doctors?" Scorpius asked, raising his voice slightly. "What do they do with his wand? And how can they prevent him from brewing some poisonous potion?"

Rose raised her eyebrows. Was Draco Malfoy going to kill someone?

"Scorpius, quietly," his mum said. "They can't do any of that—but there's this bizarre muggle science called 'psychology' that they're trying to use on him. They've even given him a diagnosis."

His eyes widened. "A diagnosis? Isn't that meant for a physical ailment, like what they give you at St. Mungo's or the hospital wing?"

She nodded. "That's what I thought they were for, too, before all of this started happening. I think they called it—what? PTSD? BPD? Or maybe both? Or some different combination?"

Rose could not believe what she was hearing. Psychology? Diagnosis? And a pair of bizarre initialisms she'd never heard of? What had Scorpius' dad done to go to a muggle hospital instead of St. Mungo's? Scorpius' voice broke through her thoughts.

"I just can't believe he'd try to hurt himself like this," he said. "I'll try to travel to the muggle hospital during our next visit to Hogsmeade."

Rose was more confused than she'd ever been. Hurt _himself_? Draco Malfoy hurt _himself_? This was all sounding much too familiar. But before she could think about it further, she heard Scorpius saying good-bye to his mother, dousing the fire, and—oh shit, he was heading towards the couch she was hidden behind. She curled herself into the smallest shape she could make. She heard him grab his book-bag off the couch and walk slowly towards the boys' tower. His slumped shoulders were outlined in the moonlight. Rose swallowed, heart still beating from her close encounter. Having forgotten about finding Hugo, she grabbed her things and walked out of the Gryffindor common room, two initialisms branded into her mind.


	10. Rose Before Bed

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

I don't understand what just happened. I figured I at least had to write about it before I went to bed. I'm still not even sure I heard everything correctly. But I need to write everything down so I don't forget about it tomorrow, and so I don't imagine that I dreamt everything. So here are the few things that I remember:

Draco Malfoy is being held in a muggle hospital

He may or may not have tried to hurt himself (using magic?)

Whatever happened, the rest of his family can't find out

His problems fall under "psychology," that weird muggle science my muggle therapist keeps going on about

Scorpius' mum mentioned two things: PTSD, and BPD

So, future Rose, this serves as a reminder that you need to go to the library tomorrow and find a book about muggle psychology. If the library even contains something like that. And maybe another thing to remember is that you must not let Scorpius know that you know anything. I mean, what if he knew all this about you? I would suggest avoiding him at all costs. Better to be cautious about it than to risk any unnecessary information about you getting out.


	11. Breakfast in the Great Hall

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

Rose awoke the next morning with bright rays of sun shining through the gold-plated curtains, which someone had apparently already opened. Out of habit, she quickly got up, brushed her teeth, had a quick shower, and pulled her robes over her short red curls. She heard the clock chime in the common room. It was only seven o'clock. At least this early she could eat alone as usual in the Great Hall, and she wouldn't have to deal with seeing Scorpius face to face, or running into any of her family members just yet.

The Hufflepuff common room was abuzz with excitement for the new morning. Nearly everyone in Hufflepuff was an early riser, all of them excited for the new day ahead. Rose scratched her head, wondering how she could have been placed in this house all those years before. She shrugged the thought away. The sunshine wasn't too bad and the other students in her house were all very nice to her. At least she always felt warm, and the Great Hall was only a few steps away.

In the Great Hall, Rose glanced towards the Gryffindor table. Only two or three students sat there, and she didn't recognize any of them. She sat at the Hufflepuff table, where several students were already eating breakfast. A warm cup of tea, an apple, and a slim slice of toast with butter appeared in front of her. She picked up the cup of tea, took a sip, and thought about what she might do.

Classes didn't start until nine, so she could go to the library if she wanted to. She consulted her schedule. First she had Arithmancy, then Herbology, then lunch. And immediately following lunch, she had Alchemy and Potions, then dinner, then Astronomy at night. That meant another late night in the library if she wanted to get a start on all of her assignments. She had to finish them before the next weekend, when she was supposed to go to Hogsmeade with the rest of the older students. But she had already decided she wasn't really going to Hogsmeade.

A loud, unmistakable laugh broke her concentration. She looked up towards the entryway. Albus Potter and a group of Slytherins sauntered in to the Great Hall, taking up a lot of space at one end of the Slytherin tables. She returned her eyes to her toast. Now that she thought about it, it was weird that Albus hadn't gotten Head Boy, especially if she had gotten Head Girl. He was quick-witted, not book smart in the same way as Rose, but he still managed to get good grades. With a Seeker as skilled as Albus, it was also rare that his house didn't win the Quidditch Cup each year. He was even kind-hearted, for the most part. He had it all together.

Rose finished her toast, wiped some crumbs off her finger, and got up to go to the library. She lifted one leg over the front end of the bench, but her body was overpowered by the weight in her bag, so she tripped over the back end. Her book-bag swung around, causing her body to spin, and she fell backwards through the air. She collided with someone else mid-fall, causing him to fall with her. The two books he had been carrying in his arms bounced one after the other off the top of Rose's head, and he followed them, crushing Rose's small frame into the ground.

Her lungs were having a hard time while she was waiting for him to crawl off of her, compressed by his body weight, until finally he rolled to the side. Rose inhaled deeply, glancing over at the person she'd tripped over. He stood up quickly, and offered her a hand. Rose shook her head at the gesture, picked up his books and her own book-bag, and stood up on her own. She held the books out towards him.

"Here… Scorpius," she huffed a little, still winded. "Sorry… about that."

"Nah, it's fine," he replied. He scratched at his fair hair, shaking the dust and bits of feathers out of it. "Where are you headed in such a hurry?"

"Oh, you know… to study," Rose said vaguely, starting to inch away. Those damn silver eyes, they would be the death of her. She felt like she wanted to tell him that she knew everything. That it was going to be okay. But she wanted to keep what she knew hidden, at least for now.

"Oh," he said, and Rose thought that was the end of that. She started to turn away, but he grabbed her by the arm. She felt a knot in her stomach, glancing back up at his eyes, and away again.

"Where? Are you going to the library?" he asked. "I might join you after I eat breakfast."

Rose looked into his eyes again, then looked away quickly. "No, I was actually thinking I might go back to the Hufflepuff common room. You know, more comfortable that way."

Before he could say anything else, she pulled her arm free of his grasp, hoisted her book-bag up onto her shoulder, and quickly scurried into the hallways. She didn't think that Scorpius would eat his breakfast so fast that she couldn't at least _stop_ by the library. And all she needed there was one or two books from the restricted section. That would take her ten minutes, tops.


	12. Dust and Cobwebs: Part I

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

Rose rushed off to the library, ducked through the stacks and hurried to the back corner, opened the heavy door to the restricted section with a rushed charm, and began frantically searching for the right book. The only categorization she could think of was Muggle Science, so she ran to the Muggle Studies section, and found that it wasn't even organized alphabetically by area of study. After what felt like an eternity, she found a section titled "Medicine," which she figured would be good enough. But here she was having a hard time distinguishing between "psychiatry" and "psychology," so she figured she'd just look for the "p" section. After looking for the "A" books as a place to start, she realized that narrowing it down to the letter "P" did her no good, because this section wasn't organized alphabetically either.

She looked around the Muggle Medicine section, hoping that she might just happen upon the right book accidentally. But none of it seemed to make any sense. She couldn't detect any form of organization, _at all_.

"This is a library," she thought to herself. "How can it be so disorganized? It's like somebody put a curse on the—"

She gasped. It must be that that someone had put a Confundus charm on this section! She had forgotten that the spell could be used on inanimate objects. She dug around in her robes, searching for her wand. She couldn't find it. She remembered that she was in a hurry, and her sense of immediacy returned. She felt around on the ground, thinking she may have dropped her wand. Her hand reached farther back, towards the wall.

"Maybe it rolled away?" she thought. "I _don't_ have time for this."

She crawled into the shadows, feeling around for her wand. Finally, the tip of her finger felt something long, thin, and wooden. She tried to grab It, but her fingers weren't long enough. Scooting forward, she reached her arm ever so slightly farther, and—

She heard a voice coming from the other end of the restricted section the moment she finally grabbed her wand. Just her luck. She turned the wand towards herself, twirled it around her head, and leaned back on the heels of her feet, so that she could blend in with what was behind her. The voice turned into two voices, and they headed slowly towards her end of the restricted section. Finally, one of the pair peeked around the row Rose was in. She flinched backwards instinctively, only after a second realizing that she was completely hidden.

The head flipped back around the row. Rose heard a familiar voice say,

"This is the right row. Are you sure nobody is here?"

Some muttering. A familiar chuckle.

"That's right, nobody would be in the library this early on the first day of school," the voice said smugly.

Rose wasn't completely sure, because of the dim lighting, but she suspected that the person might be… Albus Potter.

"Nobody's touched it," the voice continued. "We can change this shelf back to what it used to be. And put this book back where you found it."

Rose was now certain that the voice belonged to Albus. He handed the other person a book, and the person scanned the rows of books for the right place to put it. He chose the highest shelf, where dust and cobwebs covered most of the books, and stuck it in the middle.

Albus motioned with his head for them to go, and after she believed they had left the restricted section, Rose cautiously whispered, "_Finite Incantatem_."

She saw her body ripple back to its normal visibility, and stepped quietly towards the shelf Albus had enchanted. It looked much more sensibly organized than how she had found it. Everything was alphabetically organized. Rose looked for both "psychiatry" and "psychology," but neither were to be found anywhere.

She looked up towards the book they had left. Since it was the only book up there without cobwebs or dust hanging from it, it was very obvious that it did not belong there. But it would be hard to tell that it had been placed there by someone who wasn't looking.

She reached upwards, making herself as tall as she could, standing on her tip-toes, but her hand was far from reaching it. A thought came to her mind. She thought of using a summoning charm, but the only information she had about the book was what it looked like, and what she thought it might be about. She shook her head. It would be impossible to summon just a "book" when she was in a library. A library, full of "books." She would destroy the entire restricted section, at the very least.

Rose looked up again, and realized that she could make her arm much longer if she used her wand to try to knock the book down. She chuckled to herself. Of course the solution to getting a Muggle book would be a Muggle strategy. She lifted her wand, nicked the top of the book backwards, and it came toppling to the ground. It was a thin volume, and as Rose picked it up, she dusted off the front. In bold letters across the front, it read:

"ENCYCLOPAEDIA of MUGGLE PSYCHOLOGY."

Jackpot.


	13. Dust and Cobwebs: Part II (Rose)

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

I'm writing this journal entry by the light of my wand in the very farthest corner of the Restricted Section, for two reasons: in case Albus comes back, and in case Scorpius does indeed stop by before the first class today. Neither of them will find me here, nestled between Muggle Archaeology and Muggle Anthropology in the second-last row of the section for books on Muggle Studies. I'm really just using this journal to keep the record straight at this point, but maybe that's therapeutic in its own right. I'm allowed to care about other people's problems too, right?

So I looked inside this Muggle Psychology book, and the information it provides is skimpy at best. There was a lengthy introduction about how a lot of the things that go on inside a person's mind are caused by invisible forces, and while the muggles chalk it up to something called brain chemistry alongside the patient's environment, the magical community claims to know what _actually is_ happening. They say that instead of whatever the muggles might think it is, mental illnesses are mainly caused by different kinds of magic.

But the weird thing is that it seems like they don't consider mental health patients to be legitimate. Like, they say that the majority of what Voldemort did was caused by mental illness, so the judgment abilities of those wizards and witches who do have mental illnesses are not to be trusted. It even says that mental illness makes a wizard or witch more prone to weaknesses, such as the evil that Voldemort expressed.

I wonder whether that's true. I wonder whether that makes me prone to evil.

Anyways, I looked at the Index for the information I was specifically looking for, and I think I kind of figured out what Scorpius' dad is dealing with. The PTSD one was not too hard to find, as I'd heard of it before, and there wasn't anything else that shared that initialism. It stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and can cause a variety of issues, but stems from any kind of severe or violent trauma. Surely Mr. Draco Malfoy had experienced some form of trauma in his years with the Death Eaters.

But the BPD is kind of vague. I'm not sure whether it means Bipolar Disorder, or Borderline Personality Disorder. The book says that the two are often mistaken for one another because some people (wrongly) use BPD for Bipolar Disorder, though, so I'm assuming that Scorpius' mother meant that Mr. Malfoy has Borderline Personality Disorder. That would make the suicidal and self-harming behavior more plausible, unless he has Bipolar II Disorder.

Crap! I just checked my watch, and it says I only have ten minutes until my first class. I'll check back in with more info, if I come across any.


	14. Arithmancy

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

Rose closed the book and shoved her journal and quill into her bag. She looked at it for a moment, pondering something. She stood, stretched, and carefully walked to the end of the row. She peeked around the corner, and listened for a bit, making sure that nobody was there before she went back to the section of Muggle Studies she'd been in before. She looked down at the book, tugged her wand from somewhere in her robes, and pointed at the book with it.

She closed her eyes, whispered, "_Geminio_," and the little yellow volume doubled in her hands.

Rose put one of the books in her book-bag, safely hidden below the rest of her textbooks. She levitated the other copy into its rightful place, and to make extra certain that nobody knew she had accessed this book, she decorated the row with enough dust and cobwebs to make it look like it had never been touched. Nodding in satisfaction, she backed out of the row and quickly exited the restricted section so that she could get to class in time.

She checked her watch, and if she didn't hurry she was going to be at least two to three minutes late. Thank goodness Arithmancy had been moved from a classroom on the seventh floor to a wing on the second floor. She just had to climb a set of stairs and swing directly left. Rose skipped every other step as she climbed the stairs, and nearly ran down the emptying corridor towards the Arithmancy class. She tried to get in through the narrow doorway, but was impeded by another student who was trying to do the same thing. Their shoulders bumped just so that Rose was shoved forward into the room, wand clattering several feet in front of her.

The almost-full class looked back at her. She stood up, brushing herself off, and turned to look at the other student who had caused the kerfuffle. For some ungodly reason, it was Albus Potter. His green eyes in a slight frown, he slowly mouthed the words "_Wake up, would you?_" and stalked over to the only empty table that remained.

"Ah, Miss Weasley, a treat for you to join us this fall," Professor Abbott's hollow voice echoed from the front of the classroom. She grabbed her wand and stood straight back up, nodding in embarrassment.

"I so _enjoyed_ your work with numbers last year, I thought you might be able to calculate your schedule so that you'd be _on time_ for the first class of seventh year," he continued.

As the class chuckled at Abbott's quip, Albus sat in his chair, motioned grumpily for Rose to sit, and began pulling out his books.

"Finally, we can begin class," Abbott chuckled, and waved his wand so that a piece of chalk began writing on the board.

Rose was confused. Hufflepuff hadn't had Arithmancy with Slytherin last year, but looking around the classroom, it appeared that students from all four houses were in the class.

"You'll notice that we have quite the mixture this year," Abbott's voice broke through her thoughts. "Many students drop Arithmancy in year seven, in favor of other, more career-oriented classes. You all are here because you've been advised that you're good with numbers, and that a career that involves Arithmancy would be very fitting for any one of you."

Rose swallowed, and pulled out a parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink to take notes with. Potter was already taking some down with an enchanted quill. It flicked across the page in quick, angry strokes as the Professor continued to outline the requirements for the year. Rose dipped her quill in ink, and began writing the notes by hand. She had always felt that writing things helped her remember them more easily. Either way, it was much more comfortable for her to write things herself.

"Oh, also," Abbott explained, "The seats you are currently sitting in will be your seats for the rest of the year."

Some groans, some exited voices, erupted throughout the lecture hall. Rose's stomach dropped. That meant she had to figure out a way to somehow avoid talking to Albus, who would be sitting there, next to her, all year.

"It makes attendance easier," he said simply. "Now, on to actual learning…"

As Professor Abbott continued with the class, Rose could only think about the book burning a hole in the bottom of her book-bag. Albus was right next to her, and if it had been her books rather than her wand that had been thrown onto the floor earlier, he would have known about the book. And that would almost certainly lead him to suspect her, maybe even follow her as she left for Hogsmeade every week to go to therapy appointments, with a muggle psychiatrist, to help heal her mind. From what she could gather from the book, the World of Wizarding would certainly not take kindly to that kind of news.

Rose was hyperaware the entire time of Albus sitting next to her, afraid he would question her about her absence in the spring, or ask her why she was late to Arithmancy, or make some dig at her hair. Contrary to Rose's expectations, Albus didn't talk to her. But even at the thought of all he had said to her, she felt her heart begin to beat quickly, almost too quickly, and she felt her breaths become shallower and shallower. The letters on the page became harder to read as her writing hand began to shake slightly, and then a more apparent tremor took over her fingers. Rose barely managed an enchantment in her head so that it would keep taking notes for her on its own.

She looked at the clock at the front of the room. There were still ten or fifteen minutes left in the class, but she didn't know how long she would last in this state without collapsing on the table in front of her. The thought of collapsing in front of _Albus_ of all people made her pounding heart feel as though it would leap out of her chest. Sparkles of black and grey began to dazzle her vision, and her mind began rocking back and forth inside of her head.

Rose gripped the desk with one hand, stood up, knees knocking, and cleared her throat weakly. As the professor looked towards the back of the room at her, he asked what the matter was. She replied with some excuse about needing the loo, and made sure to grab her things before she exited the classroom.

Now, it was just a matter of getting to a broom closet before she fell over. There was one directly downstairs, and she started the slow process of leaning against the tower wall and holding for dear life onto the railing, as she took step after agonizing step to take her down the rather long descent.

Finally, at the bottom of the stairs, she swung open the door to the broom closet, collapsed inside, and fumbled desperately for her wand. She held it up in the general direction of the door, and whispered:

"_Collo—colloportus!_"

Satisfied after the quick locking sound that followed the incantation, Rose rested her head on the ground and closed her eyes, wondering what could have gone wrong. Through the fog, she realized that she had forgotten to take her pills that morning. Her breaths were now so short that she thought she would suffocate. Her mind kept spinning and spinning, until finally, she gave in to the grey and black spots that had been dappling across her vision, and blacked out.


	15. Broom Closet Refuge

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

Rose woke up several hours later, still locked in the broom closet. Her robes were dusty on the outside, but on the inside were damp with cold sweat. Her hair was in a similar state. The first thought she had on her mind upon waking was one word: pills. She knew she carried a back-up dose in her book-bag, but she had forgotten where.

She pulled herself up so that she was leaning against the back wall of the broom closet. One or two brooms had collapsed along with her, so she quickly and silently flitted them back into place with her wand. Rose opened her book-bag wide, and thrust her hand downwards into it. After some fishing around, her hand landed on the bottle that contained her pills.

She realized she didn't have a cup to fill with water, so she dusted off her wand and placed the tip just inside her mouth. Obviously this was kind of dangerous, but her desperate situation certainly called for desperate measures.

Before she could fully say the incantation "_Aguamenti!_" a light jet of water spouted into her mouth. She filled her mouth with just enough water before taking her wand away from her lips. She quickly poured the pills out of the bottle and into her hand, and popped them into her already almost-full mouth. She swallowed everything with one large gulp. After drinking the water, she felt decidedly better, so she pulled a handkerchief from her robes, wet it a little with her wand, and dabbed at her face and hair.

Then Rose stood up, pulling her book-bag over her shoulder, and put an ear to the broom closet door to see whether it was safe for her to exit. She didn't hear any voices or footsteps, so she unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway. It was empty, and the floor was streaked with light from the sun setting. She checked the watch on the wrist, which told her that she had missed every class but Astronomy. That was in a few hours, and she was certain that nobody would be wandering the corridors around dinnertime, so she figured she could phone her mum.

_Sometimes, just sometimes, my mum can be quite smart_, Rose thought. After graduating from Hogwarts, Hermione Weasley had ended up practically founding the booming industry of magically improved Muggle objects. Most of the family's money came from her profits. Rose thought about Scorpius using Floo to contact his own mother. She was glad that her mother had the foresight to give her a mobile phone to use for emergencies, and apparently that she also knew about the sensitivity of some of the things she and Rose would have to talk about. The phone was specifically designed by her mother to distort her voice in case of eavesdroppers, and it connected to Hermione's phone even in such a secluded place as Hogwarts. Rose shook her head. It was as if her mum could tell the future, even though she didn't believe in such things.

Rose chose a secret passageway in the dungeons that she had been to a few times before. It was quite convenient when she smelled or saw something that put her off, because where the passage stopped to branch off in a few different directions, there was also a shallow sieve filled with never-drying water. Splashing some water on her face, Rose calmed herself. She reached into the secret pocket in her book-bag where the phone had been stowed by her mum, and pulled out a sleek black flip phone. She opened the phone, dialed the number she had memorized, and her mum took less than two rings to pick up.

"Yes, Rose, what is it?" her mum sounded winded.

"Is this a bad time?" Rose asked.

"No, darling, it's fine," she said, a bit calmer. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just – I forgot to take my medication today, again, and the side effects were worse than ever. Almost as if I'm getting worse," Rose said.

"Remember what your psychiatrist said?" her mum asked.

"Right, if I don't take my medication for a while, it can build up," Rose said.

"Exactly," her mum replied. "So you don't need to worry too much about the side effects, as long as you take your medication regularly and on time."

"Yeah," Rose mumbled.

"Surely, you aren't just calling me about that?" her mum asked.

Rose would be damned if her mum wasn't a Seer.

"Not exactly," Rose admitted.

"Well, what _exactly_ is it, then, Rose?"

"It's just – I have been getting kind of – worried about taking the Knight Bus this weekend to go to the hospital in London to see my Muggle psychiatrist."

"You remember that you have to change doses," her mum reminded her. "This isn't just a counseling visit you can simply skip. You saw yourself the problems that can arise with psychiatric medications. What if those side effects get worse?"

Rose nodded.

"Rose?"

Rose chuckled, realizing that she forgot her mum couldn't see her, even with this fancy Muggle contraption.

"Yes, I understand," she replied clearly. "I just wish there were some way that I could get there without having to explain myself to any of the other witches or wizards on the Knight Bus. I mean, my face is not exactly safe from recognition, thanks to you, dad, and Uncle Harry."

"Right," her mum conceded, and paused for a moment. "You are pursuing a N.E.W.T. in Transfiguration, aren't you?"

Rose nodded, then quickly said "Yes."

"Did you ever practice transfiguring facial features, or maybe even using a charm to change the color of your hair?" her mum asked.

Rose shrugged. "I mean; I guess I remember learning all of that for the O.W.L. exams."

"That's fine, if I imagine your memory correctly, you still remember how to do all of it? And if not, you can consult one of your old Transfiguration texts to figure it out?" her mum pressed.

"Yeah," Rose said. "What, are you telling me to change my appearance before I get on that bus on Saturday?"

"That is exactly what I'm telling you, Rose. Get creative! You can be as beautiful or as ugly as you wish. Won't that be fun?"

"Not exactly," Rose chuckled. "But if it's what I need to do to get those meds on Saturday, it's what I guess I'll have to do."

"Beautiful," her mum remarked. "Now, I have to get back to the lab. I was overseeing the development of magically color-coordinated light bulbs when your call came in. I had to dash out into the hallway, and I'm afraid I might have kicked over our most recent model mid-flight."

"Man, I'm sorry mum. I'll let you go," Rose said.

The call ended with a beep. Rose went over to the pool of water, shone a light at it with her wand, and looked at her reflection. No Astronomy tonight, she thought. Tonight, I come up with the plan for making myself as un-Rose-like as possible.


	16. Un-Rose-Like

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

A/N: Hello! I apologize for having taken such a long break. I was getting into the swing of things with my summer classes (I have three tests this week, blech) and so I haven't updated in a while! But never fear, I have had some time in the past few weeks to bang out a better plot for this thing, and I will never, ever give up on it! Updates will become more regular later in the summer when I don't have midterms to worry about. But another chapter is already done, and I have a few more in the making! I promise that if you stick with this story, it will be worth it! Thank you for taking the time to read this!

This week has passed rather quickly. Once I got into the rhythm of taking my medications on time and in the right amounts, at least the side effects mostly stopped. I'm not sure that I feel all that much better than before I started the medications in the first place, and my head tends to be quite fuzzy most of the time. That gets in the way of my learning, but not so much that my professors have noticed, at least so far. Unfortunately, the extra time I'm spending on schoolwork has made it hard for me to fulfill practically all of my Head Girl Duties, so I've relegated most of the work to Kaiya. He doesn't seem to mind too much on the surface, though I'm sure he's quite annoyed on the inside.

Albus continues to act very nonchalant in Arithmancy, in spite of the fact that before this year he would antagonize me nearly constantly. I haven't run into Scorpius since the night I overheard him talking with his mum over the Floo Network, except for in the few classes we have together. He's actually been quite withdrawn from everything, barely looking anyone in the eye and absent from the Great Hall for most meals. Not that I've been on the lookout for his appearance. But whenever I look at his eyes, it's almost like he doesn't see what's happening right in front of him.

Somehow in the little time that I have outside of schoolwork, I've planned my "look" for this Hogsmeade weekend. Of all the choices transfiguration afforded me, I decided to be as discreet as possible. My hair will be black and short, pinned to the side. My skin will be slightly tanner, my nose a bit crooked, my freckles gone. I will wear plain robes, I've altered a pair of mine to look a bit shabbier, as if my family doesn't have a ton of money. I never did figure out the spell for changing the color of my eyes, and I don't want to risk going blind all for these silly precautions. And of course, I have to change the colors of my tie, scarf, and badge. My mum was smart enough to help me create a story for the girl I'm going to disguise myself as. She told me that if anyone asks, I should say that my name is Renée Collins, and I'm a fifth-year Ravenclaw. Quiet, simple, and muted, I will certainly fade into the background.

Across the room, three of my roommates are all getting ready for the weekend. As an extra precaution, I told them that I'm not feeling well, and probably can't go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Mum has arranged with Professor Longbottom to get me to the Knight Bus tomorrow without trouble. Apparently, he thinks that I'm Renée Collins, the fictional daughter of one of her friends at the lab. Mum really does think of everything. I'll wait until my roommates leave for Hogsmeade to make all of the changes to my physical appearance. I'm glad all three of them are planning on going this weekend, because otherwise it would be hard to find a place to complete all of the necessary spells. Now, I can just do everything in our shared bathroom, and nobody will be any the wiser.


	17. West London Mental Health

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

On the morning of the planned Hogsmeade trip, hordes of students filled the halls and entrances. The groups of students formed a very deconstructed line that staggered towards the gate to Hogsmeade, where Rob the caretaker was letting students in one by one. The sky was grey and wet, and rain drizzled from wispy clouds. Having just said good-bye to Professor Longbottom, Rose secured the Ravenclaw pin on her chest and stepped across a cobbled path to the Hogsmeade Knight Bus stop. They had entered through the teachers' underground gate, to avoid the crowd and get to Hogsmeade on time for the first bus.

As Rose approached the stop, she noticed a tall student who was already waiting there. She couldn't tell who exactly it was, because he had the hood of his robes covering his face. It was fine by her, the more secretive this student was the less likely he was of asking her why she was riding the Knight Bus into London. One thing she had already noticed was that her altered height and weight made balancing even harder for her than it was for her normally clumsy self. That was going to be a problem, she could tell. But the bus came a moment later, and surprisingly, she did not trip over the steep stairs while climbing into it.

The bus was quite full, and there were very few empty seats. Rose chose a seat that placed her directly across from the other student. She had become curious about who it could be, and decided to try to see who was hiding under the hood. She pulled a book from her book bag, opened it, and peered over the top edge, directly towards the other Hogwarts student. She couldn't quite identify him. His eyes were lowered, staring intently at his hands clasped together in his lap. Out of nowhere, he looked upwards at her. He blinked a few times, surprised, and Rose looked away as casually as possible. She wanted to make it look like she was just glancing around the bus. Then she took a moment to collect herself.

The student sitting across from her was Scorpius Malfoy. Rose had recognized his silvery eyes almost immediately. She had nearly forgotten the details of the conversation she had heard between Scorpius and his mum, she had been so distracted with her own problems that week. She remembered that his dad had some emotional or mental issues, and that he had done something to hurt himself, which she had found very odd. And she also remembered something about Scorpius' dad going to the hospital, so she figured Scorpius would be going to St. Mungo's to visit.

As Rose sat there thinking, the Knight Bus flew through the London streets at its enchanted pace, indeed stopping at St. Mungo's about thirty minutes in. Rose glanced across the aisle at Scorpius, who had made no move to leave the bus. Odd, she thought. Odd, because it seemed he was completely aware of the fact that the bus had stopped at St. Mungo's, and that it would be leaving St. Mungo's very shortly. As the bus door closed, an idea caused a wave of anxiety in her mind. Rose thought that maybe she was being followed by Scorpius.

But then she thought of her disguise, and all the trouble she had been through to get here, and decided that maybe he really was on the Knight Bus to go visit his father, perhaps somewhere else. Maybe his father had returned home, and Scorpius was just riding the bus to their manor in the outskirts of London. Somehow, by fighting against every negative thought she had, Rose managed to stave off the anxiety, maybe because of how desperate she was to get to the hospital, for her mom's sake at the very least. Maybe the pills were working, after all, she thought, reveling in her eerie sense of calm. For the rest of the ride, Rose gave herself some slack, even actually reading a bit of the book she had been pretending to read. After several more stops and jerks and sharp turns along the way, the Knight Bus finally stopped at the crossroads where her hospital, West London Mental Health, was located.

As she was gathering her belongings, Rose noticed a stir from across the aisle. She looked up, and realized that Scorpius was getting up, presumably to get off. Her heart rate picked up, but she refused to give in completely to the anxiety. She had worked so hard to get herself here, and she insisted to herself that he did not know who she was. She could be any old student from Hogwarts, here to visit a family member, or even to receive medical help, but the most important fact was that he had no idea that she was Rose Weasley. Before the doors of the Knight Bus could close, she bounded down the steps and onto the cobbled street, stepping up lightly onto the wet concrete.

Scorpius had already walked a couple of meters in the general direction of the hospital, and Rose realized that he must be visiting his father there. She sighed, and, looking at her watch, realized she was a few minutes behind schedule. She walked quickly down the block to the hospital, which Scorpius had already entered. She followed him down the main corridor, until he veered left where she was supposed to turn right. Rose checked her watch again, biting her lip. She didn't want to miss the appointment, but some invisible force was pushing her to follow Scorpius. He had already gotten quite far away down the side corridor, which according to the signs hanging from the ceiling separated the inpatient facilities from the outpatient facilities. Whoever he was visiting was staying there long-term. For some reason, Rose allowed the instinct to follow him take over, her curiosity getting the better of her, and managed to see which way Scorpius turned around another corner. She rushed after him, rounded the corner, and watched from a distance as he entered one of the rooms.

Rose crept forward, not wanting to be caught even as a random Ravenclaw student, and slowly tilted her head so that she could peek through the window in the door to Scorpius' dad's room. Scorpius was standing over a bed, talking to whoever was in it (Rose guessed that it was Scorpius' dad). His body was blocking the figure in the bed, so Rose couldn't see who it was, until a nurse came from another corner in the room a few moments later with some pills and a glass of water. Scorpius moved out of the way for the nurse, and Rose gasped at the sight of the patient in the bed. Rather than being Scorpius' dad, Rose recognized the woman in the bed as… as Scorpius' mum.

She pulled away from the door, feeling like she had seen something she wasn't supposed to. Her heart rate increased again, and she didn't even try to fight against the anxiety. She slid to the floor, clutching her chest. The image of Scorpius' mum in the hospital bed was seared in her mind, trapping her with feelings of confusion and anxiety. Fighting the thoughts only caused them to intensify. Beads of sweat formed on Rose's forehead. She didn't know what was happening. She had taken her meds on time this morning. Her breathing became more and more shallow. Rose fumbled around uselessly, trying to hold on to something or sit down. Black spots dazzled her vision. Her legs gave out, and Rose crumpled to the floor. Just before she blacked out completely, she heard a door scrape against the floor, and felt a hand nudge her shoulder. The black spots intensified, her senses coming in and out like strobe lights, until everything diffused into a pool of darkness.


	18. Renée Collins

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and other copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Nothing belongs to me, with the sole exception of the story I've created using this copyrighted material.

Rose awoke to the faint sound of faraway movement. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the bright light in the room. She blinked, then looked down at her right arm, where an IV had been inserted into her vein. She lifted her arm, looking at it, struggling to remember what had happened. Her head was pounding, and it took her a while to put the pieces together.

"You're awake," she heard a voice say from across the room, interrupting her thoughts.

She looked up from her arm to see Scorpius standing at the nurse's counter. His eyes were slightly narrowed, as if he were confused about something, but they remained steadily trained on her face for a moment. He turned around, and began filling a paper cup with water at the sink. Rose gulped. None of this was supposed to happen. She had ruined everything, she had ruined her appointment, just because she made the stupid decision to follow him. She thought of Scorpius' mum, the way she had intruded on Scorpius' privacy. It was at this point that the heart rate on the monitor began picking up speed, and Scorpius turned around.

He walked over to the side of the bed, handed the cup of water to Rose, and said just one word: "Drink."

Rose took the cup, downed the water in one gulp, and wiped her mouth with the back of the hand holding the cup. She looked back over at Scorpius, who sat in the chair next to the hospital bed. His eyes were slightly narrowed again, and she couldn't quite figure out what that expression on his face meant.

"You go to Hogwarts as well, I'm assuming, based on the robes," he said.

"Yes," she said. She was dying trying to remember her camouflage identity.

"Weird, though, that you would wear wizard robes into a muggle hospital."

Rose shrugged, her mind still fumbling around for her name. She knew her first name was Renée, but she couldn't for the life of her remember whether her last name was Clemens or Collins.

And then the dreaded question. "What's your name?" Scorpius asked.

Rose looked down. "Renée."

"I don't think I've seen you around school before, but then again, you're not in my year, are you?"

She was surprised he hadn't asked her last name.

"Right, right. I'm in, um, fifth year?" she replied, answering in question form.

His confused expression turned into a slight smirk, as if he had suddenly thought of something funny. He continued to look into her eyes, making her heart skip a beat. She was glad she wasn't hooked up to a heart monitor.

"Maybe that's why I've never met you," he said.

She nodded slowly and looked away towards the door, thinking of every other question he might ask her, and every answer.

"So, I gather you've found out about my mum," he said abruptly.

Rose was cautious in her choice of words. "Found out what about her, exactly?"

"Well, you're here, aren't you?" he asked. "Not that I'm necessarily worried you'll tell the whole Wizarding World, because we're both in the same place."

She gulped. "Right."

"Your doctor came in a few minutes ago," he continued. "Now that I recall, he did ask for a Renée Collins."

_Collins!_ Her brain shouted.

"He told me to tell you that he would be back after he was done viewing his next patient," he said.

She gulped. She had been out for that long? "Did he tell you anything about me?"

"No, of course not," Scorpius said. "That would break the code of doctor-patient confidentiality. And don't worry… Renée. I won't tell if you won't."

"No, no, of course not," she said.

"Well, I'd better get back. This whole visit _was_ about seeing my mum," Scorpius remarked. He gave a half smile, stood up out of his chair, and waved a little as he exited the room. "See you around Hogwarts."

Rose waved in return, and leaned back against her pillow. She realized that she had been so tense throughout the entire conversation that she had been sitting up away from the pillow. _At least Scorpius thinks I'm someone else_, she thought.


End file.
